


crash 'n' burn

by sboogy



Category: Video Blogging RPF, oneyplays, supermega
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Smoking, SuperMega - Freeform, This is completely self indulgent, oneyplays - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 13:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11692560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sboogy/pseuds/sboogy
Summary: when chris starts to fall apart, dd attempts to glue him back together.





	crash 'n' burn

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first fic i've completed and posted in quite a while i hope y'all enjoy it. shoutout to the oneyplays fandom for sticking together despite the lack of content regarding fics OTL

 It’s late January. Chris draws in a shaky breath before heading back inside the office. After gently closing the door behind him, he finds DD sprawled on top of a beanbag, reading what looks to be an old IGN magazine. He glances at Chris and detects the barbed scent of residual cigarette smoke. “I wish you would quit that,” he mutters, turning his attention back to the magazine article.

 “Yeah, well I wish you would quit being so stinky,” Chris sighs, “but we can’t always have what we want.” DD rolls his eyes, refusing to divert his focus from what he’s reading. Chris pauses in the middle of the room and slips his green Bic lighter into his front pocket. “Are you going out with us tonight?” he asks.

 DD peeks at him from behind his magazine and sighs. “Probably not.” There’s indistinct laughter coming from elsewhere in the office, cradling the brief silence between the two boys.

 Chris shifts his weight onto one leg and knits his brows. “Why not?”

 “It’s probably not a very good idea for me to spend that kind of money right now,” DD says pointedly, eyes fixed on Chris. “You of all people should know that.”

 “What about Julian?” Chris inquires, finding a stray desk chair to sit in. DD closes his magazine and sets it in his lap.

 “You’re barking up the wrong tree,” he says, voice monotone, as usual.

 Chris scoffs, his lips stretched into one of his trademark shit-eating grins. “You know, you’re a real piece of work.”

 “Trust me,” DD sighs, picking up his magazine and turning to where he had left off. “I feel the same way about you.”

 -

 DD is not as much of an asshole as he seems to let on. However, his guard is difficult to tear down. He’s dealt with his own share of betrayal and disappointment to the point where he can’t afford to be vulnerable anymore.

 The apartment is silent except for the air conditioning whistling through the vents. DD is wrapped in a blanket on the couch, scrolling through Twitter on his phone. Julian had decided to go out with everyone, on the one condition that he wouldn’t blow a whole lot of money. He considers starting a quick stream, but decides against it in favor of preserving the health of his vocal cords for tomorrow’s recording session. He sighs, kicking his feet free from the blanket to rest them on the coffee table. He abandons his phone on his lap and thinks about his interaction with Chris earlier. “Fucking selfish,” he seethes under his breath. _Chris is fucking selfish_ , he thinks. He recalls the putrid smell of cigarette smoke clinging to Chris’ clothes and his own insatiable urge to grab him by his shirt collar and scream at him, plead to him, and demand answers. Answers to questions he’s afraid to utter, for fear of Chris’ response. Questions like, _do you think it’s easy for everyone to stand by and watch you kill yourself?_

 Julian was the first to notice the undeniable scent clinging to Chris’ clothes about a month ago. “Have you been smoking?” he had asked, right before they had begun a recording.

 Chris had noticeably tensed. “I’ve been having a lot of anxiety recently,” he exclaimed.

 DD hadn’t humored the conversation, opting to urge Chris to start the recording instead. Now, he wishes he would’ve said something. He wishes he would've acted sooner. Maybe if he had, Chris wouldn't be currently burning through half a pack a day.

 DD stares into the dark abyss of his own living room. Artificial light looms in through the blinds from the street lamps. He feels pathetic. Useless. He let his best friend down.

 Suddenly, the front door opens and Julian appears. He looks surprised to see DD on the couch. “Why do you have all the lights off?” he asks, closing the door behind him.

 DD shrugs. “I was just thinking about stuff.”

 Julian kicks his shoes off by the door and strides over to the couch to take a seat next to him. “What were you thinking about?”

 DD hesitates. He despises bringing others down with his thoughts and feelings, especially Julian. Julian doesn’t deserve that.

 “Nothing,” he says, finally. “How was your night?”

 “It was fine,” Julian says, shrugging. “Chris hooked up with a girl he met at the bar.”

 DD is taken aback. He gives Julian a pensive look. “Seriously?”

 “Yeah,” Julian says. “They Ubered back to her place. He’ll regret it in the morning. He’s trashed.”

 “Huh,” DD says, retreating back under his blanket. “I’ve been thinking about him lately,” he finally admits, voice small.

 “Me too, honestly,” Julian says. DD is relieved to hear that he’s not the only one. “I’m worried about him.”

 “So am I,” DD sighs. “He’s been drinking heavier lately. Not to mention his newfound fondness for nicotine.”

 “He’s probably just stressed out. Things with the channel have been moving so fast,” Julian says. DD wants to believe that. He wants to believe that Chris is just trying to cope. He wants to believe that this will be over soon.

 -

 DD is awakened by the shrill ring of his cellphone sometime in the early hours of the morning. Once his eyes successfully focus on the bright screen, he sees that Chris is calling him. He answers the call immediately, offering a groggy, “Chris?”

 “Hey,” Chris’ voice is somewhat distorted. Must be a bad connection. “I need help, man.”

 DD sits up in bed, pressing a finger to his other ear in an attempt to hear him more clearly. “Help? Where are you?” he asks.

 “I don’t know,” Chris says, voice audibly shaky. “I’m— I’m really drunk—“

 “Stay where you are,” DD commands. “What do you see?” He doesn’t wait for Chris’ response before leaping out of bed and tugging a pair of sweatpants on, glancing at Julian’s figure stirring in his bed on the other side of the room.

 “Uh—, a laundromat,” Chris says, “with a yellow sign. It’s really cold, man.”

 “I’m coming,” says DD, grabbing a hoodie out of his dresser before padding out of the bedroom and towards the front door, somehow managing to slip on a pair of flip-flops that had been strewn out in the living room in the process, though he’s not sure if they’re his or Julian’s. “What else do you see?”

 “A 7-Eleven,” Chris stammers. To his own relief, DD knows exactly which 7-Eleven he’s talking about, given the information that it’s by a laundromat. He grabs a house key off the hook and hurries out the front door. “Stay where you are,” he repeats. “I’ll be there soon.”

 The street corner that Chris is describing isn’t too terribly far away from DD's apartment, but it’ll still take him close to twenty minutes to make it there.

 “I found a bench,” Chris says, “I’m gonna sit down.”

 “Okay,” DD says. “That’s a good idea.”

 When he gets out of the elevator and makes it down to the street, Chris says, “I— I called you ‘cause I know you’re a responsible person.”

 DD shakes his head and sighs. “I just want to make sure you’re safe,” he says.

 “Do you know where I am?” Chris asks.

 “Yes.”

 “Good, ‘cause I don’t.”

 “You would if you were sober,” DD points out.

 “I’m so alone,” Chris mutters. DD notes how thick his accent is when he slurs his words like this.

 “I know, that’s why I’m coming to get you,” he says, quickening his pace.

 “No, I mean—, you got Julian, Matt’s got Ryan…” he pauses. He lets out a very brief, soft sob. “I just got kicked out of some girl’s apartment—“

 “Julian and I aren’t together,” DD interrupts him, seemingly accidentally, like he hadn't meant to say that out loud. “I would never forgive myself if a relationship ruined our friendship. I don’t trust myself to give Julian what he deserves,” he admits.

 DD feels as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. He wonders if he’s said too much. At least Chris is intoxicated, he figures. This could be therapeutic for him, to ramble to a drunk person over the phone. No unwanted feedback, no judgment.

 He rounds a street corner and the yellow laundromat sign comes into view. “I’m almost there,” he says.

 Their conversation is halted until DD approaches him on the bench. “You came,” Chris says in borderline disbelief.

 “I said I was,” DD huffs, exhausted from the journey, and plops down on the bench next to him. Together, they watch cars fly past on the street and listen to the homeless babble from the alleyways.

 “I’m sorry, man,” Chris says, almost startling DD with his drunken, unnaturally raised voice. “Sorry for makin’ you come all the way out here…”

 “It’s what friends do,” DD says simply. “It wasn’t too far, anyway.”

 Chris looks at him with lidded eyes. His hair is disheveled, sweat beading his forehead despite the chilly weather. He blames it on the one too many drinks he’s had for thinking he looks incredibly attractive.

 DD stands, his hands buried in the front pocket of his hoodie. Chris’ head is spinning, making DD’s already tall and lean figure seem towering.

 “Ready?” DD asks. Chris nods and stumbles to his feet. DD is quick to steady him with a hand pressed to his back.

 They walk like this for a few blocks, DD keeping a careful eye on Chris’ steps.

 “Listen,” DD finally says, breaking the silence, “I know you’ve been drinking and you probably won’t take this seriously, but the way you’ve been acting has been really bothering us. More specifically… me.”

 Chris keeps his focus on making sure he’s walking straight. “Okay,” he says simply.

 DD looks at him incredulously. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

 Chris shrugs. “It means ‘okay’,” he says. “I dunno, I’m stupid.”

 “You’re not stupid.”

 “I wish I was smart like you.”

 “You are smart.”

 Chris doesn’t say anything after that. He’s starting to drag his feet, leaving him more prone to tripping, which he does multiple times, but DD stays ready to catch him. It’s not long before Chris starts convulsing, hands frantically searching for something to grab, something to steady himself on, which turns out to be DD’s hoodie, who struggles to pull him into the closest alleyway so he can have some privacy.

 Chris leans forward, holding himself up against the brick wall with both hands. DD rubs circles into his back as he empties himself onto the concrete. “Shit,” Chris chokes in between heaves.

 “It’s okay,” DD assures him, “you’ll feel better afterward.”

 Chris’ chest begins to swell and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s feeling sick or because of the attention. DD’s hand doesn’t quit stroking shapes against his back and it leaves Chris desperately wanting more contact, feeling as if electricity is currently scaling his bones. He vomits until his stomach feels like it’s beginning to constrict. Sweat collects at his hairline, his eyes squeezed shut as he struggles to catch his breath as he tries to swallow a coughing fit.

 “You okay?” DD asks.

 Chris hesitates before saying, "Yeah.”

 With one hand firm on his chest, DD pulls Chris until he’s standing upright again.

 Before they head back over to the street, Chris stops, tugging the sleeve of DD’s hoodie. “Wait,” he says. DD gives him an inquisitive look. Chris’ hair is awfully disheveled, sticking up in every which way, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent than usual.

 “Do you think—,” he mumbles, “do you think I could stay at your place tonight?”

 DD raises a brow, then relaxes, offering him a thin smile. “Sure,” he says, “if that’s what you want.”

 Chris smiles faintly. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sboogy on tumblr come chat !!!


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